The Trees Are Watching
by visiblehowl
Summary: Night Elves. Massive Trees. Occasional Horde. Ashenvale sucks...


Bolarn hated forests. At best, they merely gave him the creeps. At worst, they were enough to transform his typically upbeat demeanor into a dark loathing of all existence. Which was probably why he usually passed through forests bathed in the dark energies of his shadowform; it just felt _right_.

Of all the forests he had encountered, however, none disturbed him as much as the forests of Kalimdor. Back at home, trees were few and far between, and even in human forests, trees had the decency to grow to a bearable height. But the trees of Kalimdor, particularly those in night elf territory, were nothing short of horrific. It was bad enough hanging out with the night elves, with their constant taunts about his height. But as soon as he left the city, it seemed the massive trees themselves mocked him with their enormity. Not to mention he could never remember where they were, so whenever he tried to take the most efficient route to a cave or town, he always had to readjust for the monstrous trees in his path. It made traveling in Ashenvale very taxing, to say the least.

Still, he was determined to get a hold of these prayer beads Luminaria kept raving about, if only to shut her up. Which meant once again riding through Ashenvale to drop off the single ichor he had neglected to withdraw from the bank before coming to Azshara for the first time. Not only that, he had to come through here again after slaying some dragon in the Swamp of Sorrows to drop off the finished elixir in Felwood. _This quest just gets better and better._

Bolarn idly waved his hand in front of his face, shooing away the enormous bug that flew by him. Once again he shook his head at the thought of how drunk he must have been to purchase a giant cockroach from the shady looking goblin in the corner of the tavern at Booty Bay. The damned thing had its uses, though. Most notably, it kept most of the night elves at bay. For all their respect for the world's living beings, they certainly seemed repulsed by his six-legged friend. The fact that it was a _flying _cockroach didn't help either. Still, it was rather irritating for a pet; the constant buzzing was starting to give Bolarn a headache. Which only served to further escalate his increasingly dark mood.

He was so distracted by his inner grumbling that he didn't notice the undead warrior until he was nearly on top of it. Bolarn had a brief moment to study the warrior – substandard armor, poor stance technique – before it charged at him with lightning speed. Bolarn was thrown off the ram, which fled into the forest. He flew a fair distance before hitting the ground, but the warrior was already there, jabbing at him with two swords, slicing easily through Bolarn's flimsy garments and causing a couple minor wounds. After taking a moment to regain control of his senses, Bolarn reached within himself and spoke the word of power to surround himself with a nearly invisible shield. Getting to his feet, he shook his head at the hapless warrior who was still trying to stab him, but found that its weapons slowed and stopped when they came in contact with the field of energy. Quickly, Bolarn attached the warrior's life essence to his own, then uttered the malevolent word of suffering, feeling the dark energies inside him begin to coalesce within the warrior. Immediately, he could feel his wounds begin to heal, as the warrior grimaced in pain. Bolarn smiled grimly; this wouldn't take long. He held up his hand, and blue energy poured from his palm into the warrior's body, where it would spread to the mind, inducing chaos and causing intense agony. Suddenly, he felt a dagger slide into his side, as the hilt of another blade slammed into his skull. The energy from his hand flickered and died, and he collapsed to the ground. He tried desperately to reorient himself as the warrior and the newly-arrived rogue thrust again and again with their blades. Bolarn closed his eyes and refocused his essence, gathered his mental energy into a bundle of psychic noise, and released it into the minds of his aggressors. They fled in opposite directions, holding their heads and screaming in pain. The rogue fled into the forest unhindered, but the warrior smacked face-first into a nearby tree. Bolarn took the opportunity to release a blast of dark psychic energy into the warrior's mind, causing it to topple to the ground, unmoving.

With that threat neutralized, Bolarn turned his attention to the rogue, who was beginning to shake off the effects of the psychic scream. He threw up another shield, and relinquished the dark energy surrounding him. As the darkness dissipated, he reestablished his connection to his lighter powers. Closing his eyes, he pulled healing power from within, and focused it into his wounds, feeling them close up and, ultimately, disappear. He opened his eyes to find the rogue a mere five feet in front of him and moving quickly. Once again, he attached his life essence to the rogue's, and spoke the dark word of pain…

Bolarn finished the last of the morning glory dew and stood up, feeling refreshed and invigorated. Nudging the dead rogue with his toe, he noticed something odd on the sole of its boot. Bending closer to take a look, he realized that it looked suspiciously like the remains of a large insect, most likely a cockroach. Bolarn shook his head and spit on the corpse before walking calmly over to the warrior, who was feebly trying to crawl away. Bolarn rapped it smartly on the head with his staff with a satisfying "thunk", and the warrior collapsed. He studied the nearby tree, at which the warrior had come to a rather sudden stop, and nodded approvingly. Perhaps these trees were good for something after all. Also, with that infernal buzzing gone, his headache had almost completely disappeared. Bolarn turned and whistled for his ram. Soon he was once again riding off towards Azshara, humming happily to himself.


End file.
